


Snap!

by rudbeckia



Series: Benarmie 2020 [3]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Tree, Fluff, M/M, benarmie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:41:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27941681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudbeckia/pseuds/rudbeckia
Summary: Armie and Ben are done stargazing, and Armie’s ma has a chore for them to do.Kylux Advent day 7: Trees. Follows immediately from the previous fic, “Cosy”.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo
Series: Benarmie 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2044489
Comments: 7
Kudos: 14
Collections: Kylux Advent Calendar 2020





	Snap!

Despite the blanket and the flask of cocoa and each other’s warmth, when frost begins to settle on the grass and their hair and the telescope, Armie calls it a night. With fingers tingling at the sharp cold, he dismantles the telescope and they both carry the pieces back indoors to slot everything back into its box.

“Ah, you’re done?” Ma smiles and shakes out russet curls. “Will you help me with a chore?”  
Armie groans and rolls his eyes, but Ben sees the lightning flash of a grin in her face.  
“Sure, Aoife,” he says. “What do you want us to do?”  
“I need something brought in from the car. Pair of strapping lads like you two should have no bother at all.”

Armie and Ben look at each other and shrug. Aoife unlocks the car with a click from the kitchen door and the boys trot back out into the frosty night.

“Wow!” Armie stares at the dark green monstrosity. “How the hell did she manage to fit that in there?”  
Ben laughs and rubs his knee where the springy topmost bough slapped his leg as soon as the hatch of the estate car opened.

“How are we going to get it out?” He leans in and grips the trunk, but jerks his hand back with a curse. Armie laughs as Ben shakes his hand and plucks a couple of stubbornly embedded pine needles from his palm.  
“Gloves.” Armie marches to the shed and returns with two pairs of thick, suede gardening gloves.

Between them, with Armie pushing, cramped facing the wrong way in the driver’s seat, and Ben pulling, the tree slides out of the back of the car and lands on the gravel. They lift it and carry it, Armie cradling the top and Ben hefting the base, into the kitchen.

Aoife has the stand ready by the living room window, and two dusty cardboard boxes wait in the corner. “Can I leave you to it?” she says, mainly to Armie. Armie nods. “It’s huge!”  
“Well,” she says. ”There are three of us this year.I wouldn’t bother if it was just me.”  
“Dad doesn’t bother at all. I think he’s allergic to tinsel.”

Armie busies himself unpacking fairy lights and bells and baubles. Ben hugs the tree and lifts it enough that Aoife can direct the base of the trunk into the stand and tighten it up. Armie stands back and eyes it critically. “It’s not perfectly vertical. Look...”

Twenty minutes later the tree could be tested with a set square, a plumb line and a spirit level. Armie directs, Ben hangs ornaments and Aoife watches, smiling, from the safety of the sofa. When Armie is satisfied that is is perfect, she directs them to sit and stand and sit again by the tree while she takes photos until she is satisfied that she has captured the perfect shot.

Only she hasn’t, yet. “I almost forgot,” she says with a twinkle in her eyes. She takes a box from her bag and opens it, producing a sprig of rich green leaves with pearl-white berries. Ben laughs, takes it from her, looks at Armie and holds it above his head, waggling his eyebrows. Armie turns pink, but laughs and kisses Ben anyway.

It’ll remain Aoife’s favourite Christmas photo for years to come.


End file.
